


Candlelight and Lucky Charms

by Suspicious_Popsicle



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-28
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-05-03 17:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5301206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suspicious_Popsicle/pseuds/Suspicious_Popsicle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even in a sweater, wool coat, and scarf Flynn could still feel the chill breathing in through his car windows. He wanted to be safely back at his own apartment with Yuri and Repede where they could wait out the storm. If the power on Yuri's block hadn't been knocked out, he wouldn't have ventured out into the storm in the first place. (Modern AU Fluri one-shot)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candlelight and Lucky Charms

**Author's Note:**

> Written a few months back as a birthday gift for Franniel on tumblr. ^^
> 
> Disclaimer: The characters in this story are from Tales of Vesperia and do not belong to me.

Carefully, Flynn turned into the parking lot of Yuri's apartment complex and pulled up in front of building B. There were no open spaces, but the entire complex seemed to be frozen beneath its coating of snow, so he came slowly to a stop right in front of the walk and turned on his emergency lights just in case. The snow was falling softly now, a thin downpour of fine, white flakes against the grays and blacks of the city, but Flynn had seen plenty of fender benders on the way over. He pulled out his phone and called Yuri, watching the rhythmic flash of his lights dye the falling snow in bursts of gold.

Yuri answered on the third ring. 'Hey. You here?'

“Hi. Yes, I'm here.”

'Be down in a minute.'

“Double check and be sure you have everything you need.”

'I'm good.'

“Did you leave the taps open to be sure your pipes don't freeze?”

'This isn't my first bad winter, Flynn.' His exasperation was softened by amusement. 'I'm coming down. See you in a minute.'

“Watch your step on the stairs.”

He heard a snort and then the line went dead. Flynn rested his phone in a cup holder, staring down at the photo background. Estelle had taken the picture two summers ago during a day trip up to the mountains. Framed by flowering rhododendron and the white glare of sunlight through green leaves, Yuri was looking back over his shoulder, grinning directly at the camera. Just a little ways further up the trail, Flynn was in the shot as well, though his smile was focused on Yuri.

He smiled now, even as the screen went dark, and thought to himself for the thousandth time that they ought to go hiking again if ever they could find a time when weather and schedules permitted.

The noise from the engine changed slightly, and Flynn turned the heat down another notch. He hadn't been idling that long, but Yuri had been known to have some spectacularly bad luck, and the last thing Flynn needed was car trouble in the middle of a snowstorm. He studied the snowfall, trying to decide if it had gotten heavier since he'd arrived. Half the cars in the parking lot were indistinguishable white lumps that glittered softly in the darkness beyond his headlights. It made him shiver just to look at the accumulation of snow. Even in a sweater, wool coat, and scarf he could still feel the chill breathing in through his windows. He wanted to be safely back at his own apartment with Yuri and Repede where they could wait out the storm. If the power on Yuri's block hadn't been knocked out, Flynn wouldn't have ventured out into the storm in the first place. He hadn't been about to leave his boyfriend in an unheated apartment for who knew how long, though, so he'd made the trip over and now prayed for a safe return.

Flynn caught a flash of movement through the snow and looked out the passenger window to see Yuri and Repede appear out of the winter night. He unlocked the door a moment before Yuri opened up the back and ushered Repede in. Dropping a duffel bag and a backpack on the floor, Yuri hurriedly slammed the door shut to climb into his seat up front.

His arrival had brought in the cold. Even though it was barely two dozen steps from the stairs to where Flynn had parked, Yuri was covered in a layer of snowflakes that melted swiftly as he took the liberty of cranking up the heat. He was dressed in a parka over an ancient hoodie worn thin. No scarf or gloves, of course, but the hat Flynn had bought him last Christmas was pulled down over his ears. He shivered theatrically as he strapped in, and Flynn leaned over to give him a quick kiss before turning off the emergency lights and slowly pulling out.

“So, what's the plan?” Yuri asked. He reached back to ruffle Repede's fur as they turned out onto the main road.

“I thought maybe a few rounds of Street Fighter? Then, once you're sick of losing, you can cook us dinner in exchange for my gracious offer of a warm place to sleep.”

Yuri laughed softly. “Oh, I am gonna kick your ass.”

“In your dreams, maybe.”

They bantered as Flynn drove, though his attention was mostly focused on the slick roads and the quickly thickening snowfall that whipped up out of nothingness as it was caught in the glare of his headlights to fly past his car. The snow turned cones of streetlights into upturned champagne flutes, was changed into confetti before the green-yellow-red glow of stoplights. It silvered the skeletons of bare trees and sat like icing on dark pines. It turned to ice and slush beneath his tires as it fell endlessly from a felt gray sky and, although Flynn knew it was dangerous and he could practically sense the cold pressing in all around, he still couldn't help thinking that it was a beautiful night.

* * *

 

“Come on, _come on_!”

Yuri was furiously mashing buttons, eyes glued to the TV screen as he launched Blanca at Ryo. They'd gone past best three out of five, five out of seven, and were now just battling for the hell of it. Flynn had declared that this would be the last match before dinner and Yuri was determined to win it. He was close—he was _so damn close_!—and he whooped as he dodged an attack. If he could just catch Ryo—

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He was up out of his seat, victory in sight, when the apartment suddenly went pitch black with the crack of a power outage.

“ _Fuck_!”

Warmth pressed up against his thigh. Repede had come to stand next to him. Yuri stroked the dog's fur, waiting for his eyes to adjust. He heard Flynn stand up and begin to shuffle across the carpet.

“Wait there for just a moment,” Flynn said. “I've got some flashlights and candles in the kitchen.”

He walked past, barely discernible in the darkness even though he was close enough that his hand brushed across Yuri's chest as he went. The sound of his footsteps changed as he reached the linoleum of the kitchen floor. Yuri turned the opposite way, toward the faint, gray rectangle limning the blinds drawn across the balcony door and took a step.

“Ow!”

“Yuri?”

“Coffee table.” He'd forgotten about it and caught his toe on one of the legs.

“I told you to stay put.”

“You tell me to do a lot of things.”

More careful now, he started forward again. He could see—barely—and made it to the doors without further incident. Behind him, he heard the scrape of a drawer and the rattle of its contents as Flynn searched by touch. Reaching out, Yuri parted two panels of the hanging blinds and pressed forward to look outside. All he could see of the block from Flynn's third floor apartment was dark. Not even the streetlights were on. It was eerily lit with light pollution reflecting off the clouds from parts of the city that still had power. In the distance, Yuri thought he could pick out purples and oranges against the sky, although that might have been nothing more than his imagination straining for a hint of color. The snow was still streaming down, clumps of flakes as big as his eye dropping straight out of the clouds to flood the world with ice. Looking down on it, Yuri shuddered. He could already feel the cold sucking the heat out of the apartment and trickling through the glass in its place. He pulled his hand back to let the blinds fall into place and offer what little extra insulation they could. It looked like being taken in by Flynn wasn't going to make much difference.

Light from behind him raced up the blinds and captured his silhouette in a fuzzy halo. It shook and shivered as Flynn came closer, and Yuri turned to have a flashlight pressed into his hand.

“Here. I'm going to light some candles. In the meanwhile, watch your step.”

He patted Yuri on the shoulder and turned away, holding a second flashlight to guide his steps. The light faded, cutting off save for a dim glow once Flynn was back in the kitchen. Flicking on his own flashlight, Yuri glanced at the oblong circle that fell across the floor and over Repede's paws where he sat just on the edge of it. The light was yellow and pale, glinting oddly off the carpet and Repede's fur and a swarm of dust motes. Yuri turned the flashlight up, lighting his features from directly beneath his chin and made a face at Repede. The dog was unimpressed.

“All right. Guess we'll count you out for ghost stories,” Yuri muttered.

“What was that?” Flynn called.

“Nothing.”

The light from the kitchen was slowly increasing. Feeling a bit like a moth, Yuri followed the warm glow. He leaned against the wall just outside the kitchen, watching as Flynn lit tealights and votives and a few, stumpy pillar candles. Without looking up, Flynn explained softly:

“Dad always made sure to keep candles in the house for emergencies like this. It seemed like a wise precaution.”

Yuri didn't have anything to say in response. He kept quiet as he watched Flynn light candle after candle. Faintly tan even in winter, Flynn's skin almost seemed to glow in the candlelight. The flames glimmered against his hair, and danced in his downcast eyes.

“Go set some of these in the living room, would you? High enough that Repede won't accidentally knock any over.”

Yuri collected a handful of tealights on his open palm and carried them off to do as Flynn had asked.

“Your coffee table's too low,” he complained.

Flynn ignored him, as Yuri had expected, and he placed the tiny candles on the top of a small bookcase sitting to one side of the couch. They did very little to light up the room. The next handful, placed on a taller bookshelf against the opposite wall didn't help much either. Now that his eyes had adjusted, Yuri could see the dim, dirty gray light from outside as it seeped in only to be drowned in darkness. He pulled open the blinds, shivering at the chill when his knuckles brushed the cold glass. He was wearing a t-shirt beneath his old, red hoodie, but he was still cold. Even so, something about the night outside, about the steady, silent falling snow captured his attention. He stood by the door, hypnotized, until Flynn came quietly from behind to wrap him up in a hug.

Yuri hadn't realized that he'd folded his arms across his chest for warmth, or that he'd been trying to curl his bare toes in against the carpet. With Flynn warm against his back, arms wrapped snugly around his shoulders, Yuri suddenly noticed the faint chill trying to worm its way beneath his skin. He shivered slightly and pressed back against Flynn. Their cheeks were pressed together, and he couldn't help but smile when Flynn turned his face enough to give him a quick kiss.

“It's beautiful,” Flynn whispered.

“It's gonna be a pain in the ass to dig your car out,” he countered.

“Why is it you're only practical at times like this?”

Flynn nuzzled Yuri's cheek and kissed a trail down his neck. Trapped between them, locks of Yuri's hair became a net to ensnare the kisses. The ticklish sensation was enough to make him squirm. Either Flynn took that the wrong way or he wasn't quite in the mood. The stream of kisses dried up and he settled his chin on Yuri's shoulder with a soft sigh. They stood there, watching the snow fall to blanket the city. They were close enough to the glass that Yuri could feel the chill seeping in still, particularly against his bare toes. It made the heat of Flynn's body seem all the warmer, and he shivered faintly at the contrast. Flynn felt it, of course. His arms tightened and he shifted, pressing just a bit closer. His nose brushed against Yuri's cheek as he turned his head.

“Are you cold?” Flynn murmured the question into Yuri's skin, lips brushing against his jawline with no more pressure than a heavy breath.

“Nah.”

He could feel another shiver rising, a result of the lingering kiss and the potential for more, for heat and the sweat-slick needy slide of skin against skin. The details were still nebulous and unformed. Friends since childhood, they had only recently acted upon mutual attraction and begun dating. They weren't even technically lovers yet by Yuri's definition, only having satisfied each other with hands, foreheads resting together as they had sat knee-to-knee on Flynn's bed and exchanged fumbling, unsure touches. There was no doubt in Yuri's mind that when Flynn had invited him to stay, it was with the assumption that Yuri would be sleeping on the couch. There was another option, though: the warmth of a shared bed, bodies pressed close, heated kisses, intimate caresses...something more than they had shared before. Yuri considered the idea, turned it over in his mind, let it simmer low in his stomach and melt away the chill that had somehow snuck down inside him.

He wondered if Flynn was thinking the same thing, if he still wanted to take it slow, or if the evening would lead to something like those heated imaginings. He couldn't read Flynn very well when it came to things like that, not yet, anyway. It was frustrating sometimes. This new twist to their relationship was taking some getting used to, but there was so much exciting potential.... If he turned around in Flynn's arm and kissed him, met comfort with craving, would that spark of warmth between them grow to a flame, there in the darkness with the world frozen and silent beyond?

Just as Yuri started to turn, the arms around him tightened. With a groan, Flynn sagged heavy against him, scattering Yuri's thoughts of passionate kisses and hot, bare skin pressed to his own.

“Flynn?”

“I just realized.... What are we going to do about dinner? I picked up some chicken before you got off shift earlier, but with the power out, there's no way to cook it.”

Relaxing back into Flynn's hold, Yuri patted his arm. “Any sides?”

“A mixed salad and a loaf of take-and-bake garlic bread.”

“Rabbit food and you-know-I-can-make-better-so-why'd-you-bother.”

“Your gratitude is overwhelming. Next time I'll let you do your own shopping before I come riding to your rescue.”

Yuri laughed. “What rescue? We're in the same situation, but with a less-well-stocked kitchen.”

“Some people might say it's the thought that counts,” he mumbled. “It's not like I could have known that the power would go out here, too.”

“So sorry that your scheme to get me to cook for you was foiled.”

“ _Scheme_!” Flynn let go and stepped back, taking his warmth with him. The squawk of protest had merely been playing along with Yuri's teasing, as evidenced by his lopsided grin. “I drove through the worst storm we've had in years to bring you and Repede to a warm home for the night, and you accuse me of _scheming_? I ought to kick you out into the snow.”

His navy sweater was leached of color and seemed to fade into the shadows pressing in between the feeble rays from Yuri's flashlight and the flickering tealights, and his face and hair were a pale flame in contrast. Yuri wondered fleetingly if the rest of him would be that same inviting, warm gold in the dark. Maybe later he would have a chance to find out.

“Aw, simmer down. As it happens, I can still make us dinner.” He paused a moment and amended: “Maybe. You got milk?”

“Yes.” There was enough curiosity over what recipe Yuri might need it for that his response was almost a question. He glanced worriedly over his shoulder toward the kitchen. “I hope the fridge stays cold enough that it doesn't go bad before the power gets turned back on.”

“Two birds with one stone, then.” Yuri followed the flashlight to where he'd stowed his duffel bag beside the couch. Setting aside the spare pillow and blanket Flynn had brought out earlier and laid atop it, he knelt to rummage through the bag. “I'd brought this along for breakfast, but—ah hah!” Triumphantly, he held up a box of Lucky Charms. “Dinner!”

Flynn's expression was barely discernible, and shining the flashlight into his face only made him wince. Pity. Yuri had wanted to see him cringe at the idea of replacing a decent meal with a bowl of sugary cereal.

“I think I'll stick with the salad.”

“Oh, come on. You used to love this stuff when we were kids!”

Flynn gave him a considering look, but he relented with a smile. “All right. Let me get some more candles lit, and then we can feast like five-year-old kings.”

“That's the spirit!”

As Flynn went back to the kitchen, Yuri glanced at the blanket next to his bag. That five-year-old comment had given him an idea. He waited until Flynn was on his way down the hall with a sack of tealights, a flashlight, and a lighter, then grabbed the blanket and hurried into the kitchen with it.

An array of lit tealights and pillar candles were still glowing on the counter, enough that Yuri could see what he was doing without too much difficulty. He set the cereal box aside and unfolded the blanket, draping it over Flynn's small dinette table. It wasn't quite long enough, but in the darkness, it would do just fine. Next, he raided the cabinet over the sink for wine glasses. Carefully, he lowered lit tealights into four of the glasses and set them on the floor inside his tiny blanket fort. They glowed faintly through the blanket, giving it the look of a stage set for a shadow play. Yuri grinned, pleased with his efforts, and got out a pair of bowls and spoons for their dinner. He was pouring out the cereal when Flynn returned and paused to look at his handiwork.

“What's going on?”

There was a bit of laughter in Flynn's voice, and no doubt that he knew exactly why the table was lit up from below. Yuri flashed him a grin that was probably lost in shadow as he stated the obvious.

“Blanket fort.”

Yuri snatched the milk out of the dark fridge and poured some into each bowl. Eyeing the Lucky Charms dubiously, Flynn plucked out a marshmallow—a red balloon—and offered it to Yuri. Rather than holding out a hand for it, Yuri ducked his head to eat it straight from Flynn's fingers, closing his lips over their tips and licking the morsel free from between thumb and forefinger. Grinning, expecting to see Flynn grimace and scrub the saliva from his fingers, Yuri instead found himself pierced by an intense stare. The blanket fort and the cereal had recalled their childhood while making him forget that things were changing between himself and Flynn. There was an almost hungry look in his friend's eyes that Yuri hadn't been prepared for when he'd playfully snapped up the treat. It left him unaccountably self-conscious, and he turned away, stealing a moment to sort himself out as he put the milk back in the fridge.

The second Yuri's back was turned, Flynn shattered the awkward moment. He grabbed his bowl off the counter and made for the table with a cry of “Commander of the fort!” With a groan, Yuri spun and darted after him, heedless of the mini tidal wave of milk and cereal that sloshed over the side of his bowl as he snatched it off the counter. He was too late anyhow. Playground rules: Yuri might have built the fort, but Flynn had called dibs on Commander. Fort Scifo was his.

It was close and not terribly comfortable beneath the table. The thing hadn't been built to accommodate two grown men sitting on the floor to share a candlelit dinner of Lucky Charms. They still managed to fit, though, and that was what counted. They couldn't help grinning at each other between spoonfuls of cereal, laughter in their expressions over the freedom of being silly, of recalling their childhood. The loss of electricity and the snowstorm that trapped them indoors had thrown the world off-kilter, made them feel like kids staying up late with the knowledge that school would be canceled the next day. The blanket fort was cut adrift from the flow of time—no concerns allowed. For a little while, it was as if the biggest change that had taken place since their shared childhood was the fact that Flynn didn't care for the marshmallows in his cereal. That suited Yuri just fine, though. He found that he had no qualms about leaning forward to accept the occasional too-colorful mouthful from Flynn's spoon.

It was warm beneath the table. The chill that had possessed Yuri near the window was gone, melted away like the shard of the Snow Queen's mirror at the end of the story. Leaning up against one leg of the table, grinning helplessly across the candlelight at Flynn's burnished features, watching his lips move as he spoke and his hands fly through gestures, Yuri felt wrapped in contentment like a blanket. Although it was Flynn's apartment, he felt like he was home.

Yuri missed Flynn's moment of realization. Hypnotized by the way things had clicked into place, it was as if Flynn had gone from telling his story to staring at Yuri, eyes bright and keen in the warm light. There was a sense of time lost, minutes or seconds passed unnoticed as Flynn's words came to a gradual halt. It was only when the silence and stillness had gone on too long did Yuri's attention come fully awake to the present only to be caught immediately in Flynn's stare.

“You know...” Flynn's voice held the idea carefully as he offered it up for Yuri's inspection. “...this is kind of romantic.”

The warmth was no longer a soft-edged and enveloping nostalgia. Yuri stirred, sitting up a little straighter from where he'd been leaning, though he was still forced to hunch his shoulders in order to avoid bumping his head on the table. “Run that by me again.” There was a breath of incredulous laughter beneath the request.

Flynn's cheeks were rosy in the low light, but he smiled charmingly, unwilling to be put off. “Well, we've got the lights turned low—”

Yuri snorted. “The power's out.”

“—a nice, candlelit dinner—” He touched a finger to the base of one of the wine glasses and slid it aside, then did the same with the others, leaving an empty space between the two of them.

“You picked half the marshmallows out of yours.” _And fed them to me._ Yuri refused to voice the thought and give Flynn another point in his favor.

“—just the two of us, _alone_ —”

Flynn was moving, setting aside his bowl and shifting so that he was on hands and knees rather than sitting cross-legged on the hard floor. Yuri could see what was coming, and he leaned back just a bit, pushing his own bowl out of the way and bracing himself with arms stretched out behind him. In his anticipation, he could already feel the warmth that would creep along his skin as Flynn crawled forward and closed the distance between them.

“We've been hanging out 'just the two of us' since forever.”

As Flynn drew closer, Yuri tried to hold his gaze. It was impossible to keep his eyes from wandering, however, skimming over Flynn's broad shoulders, taking in the movement of his thighs. Reflexively, Yuri licked his lips, realizing that his mouth had gone dry. His pulse was fluttering like a caged bird, and he scolded himself for the nervous edge to his excitement even as he wondered where this was leading, how far they would go this time, if they would stop. Flynn reached out, fingertips stroking ever-so-gently just beneath his eye, and Yuri's breath caught in his throat at the touch.

“Fuck it,” he breathed, the words tumbling over his lips. He was done arguing the mood. Smiling crookedly, he leaned ever-so-slightly into Flynn's palm where it rested against his cheek. “Are you gonna kiss me, or not?”

“Not a shred of romance in your soul,” Flynn murmured.

Yuri tilted his chin up and felt lips press warm against his. The kiss was sweetened with milk and sugar cereal, and he lapped it up, loosing a huff of laughter as he felt Flynn's nose crinkle in distaste. When had Flynn outgrown his appreciation for sweets? Still, the flavor couldn't have bothered him that much. With every smack of lips as they parted momentarily, Flynn surged back in a little quicker, a bit closer. He was the constant wash of waves over the shore, receding only to draw Yuri further under, rushing back in to wash him away. Yuri wrapped an arm around Flynn's shoulders, holding him close even as their lips parted.

“You wouldn't have me any other way,” he mumbled. They kissed again.

“I suppose that makes us both lucky.” Flynn kissed his chin and the tip of his nose. “Don't you think?”

His lips tickled lightly over Yuri's cheekbones, sprinkling delicate kisses over his face as Yuri tightened his hold and pulled him closer. The kisses didn't stop as Yuri leaned further back, only migrated down his cheeks and over his jawline, beneath his chin, along his neck. As Yuri uncrossed his legs and stretched them out to either side of Flynn, careful not to knock over the candles, Flynn hooked a finger into the collar of his t-shirt, tugging it and his hoodie lower to kiss his bared throat. Yuri shifted on the linoleum, catching up against Flynn's knees and lying back. Flynn moved with him, tucking a hand beneath his head and stretching out atop him, careful not to crush Yuri uncomfortably against the hard floor.

Catching up handfuls of choppy, blond hair, Yuri dragged Flynn down into another kiss. He caught Flynn's bottom lip between his teeth and felt the shiver that ran through Flynn's body as he pulled back enough to tug it free. The pause in the kiss was nothing more than the moment between heartbeats, and then Flynn's mouth was on his again, his tongue slipping past Yuri's lips and teeth, tasting, searching for the perfect way they fit together. Flynn hummed into the kiss, breath blowing hot over Yuri's skin, fingers clenching against the back of Yuri's head where his hand still served as a pillow. Yuri bucked up against him, moaning softly, encouraging Flynn on, hungering for more of his heat, more touches, more of the slick flesh-on-flesh sensations, the little wet sounds, the exchange of breath, the grind of their bodies pressed close. He wanted more of _everything_.

Flynn was trying to tug the collar of his hoodie out of the way again. He had to feel the furious beating of Yuri's pulse against the backs of his fingers. They brushed Yuri's skin, sending pleasant shivers racing along his nerves. Yuri pressed his head back against Flynn's hand, against the floor, trying to expose more of his neck for those heated, wandering kisses. Unfortunately, his hoodie wasn't the type that could be unzipped for quick access while making out. He let go of Flynn and reached to start pulling it off.

“Bed would...be more comfortable.”

Flynn hurried the words out between kisses. He'd released Yuri's collar to slip a hand up beneath his hoodie and t-shirt, fingers running over Yuri's stomach and ribs, letting in cooler air and eliciting shivers. His other hand tangled in Yuri's hair near the back of his neck, tugging to urge him to tilt his chin up further as Flynn lavished kisses over his throat. Yuri moaned, arching into his touch and fumbling with the hem of his hoodie. The air tickling the exposed skin of his waist was cold. The floor felt like ice where it touched his back. Bed, he thought with a frisson of excitement, was a _very_ good idea.

Dragging himself backward, Yuri slipped out of Flynn's arms and into the dimly lit kitchen outside of Fort Scifo. The blanket had already fallen over his chest, hiding Flynn from sight as he felt a brief squeeze of hands on his hips and the moist tickle of a kiss on his stomach, just above the waist of his jeans. Yuri froze for a moment, then let his head fall back with a groan as Flynn nuzzled him just a bit lower. There was soft laughter from behind the blanket, then the warmth of Flynn's body pulled away and Yuri heard four sharp puffs of breath as Flynn blew out the candles.

In his hurry to crawl backward out of the fort, Flynn tried to stand too quickly and knocked his head against the underside of the table. Laughing at his clumsiness, Yuri came around and caught him up in his arms, ruffling his hair over the bump and pulling him close for a hasty exchange of kisses. One of Flynn's hands caught Yuri's wrist in a firm grip, stilling it, though his hair was already in great disarray. His other hand slipped beneath Yuri's shirt, fingers splayed across his back as he held him close and set off shivers like soaring fireworks beneath Yuri's skin.

“Sure you're not cold?” Flynn teased, nipping lightly just beneath Yuri's ear.

“You've got nice, thick blankets on your bed, right?” He sucked in a sharp breath as teeth grazed his skin.

“It won't be the blankets keeping you warm.”

Stunned, Yuri jerked back. He had never expected to hear something like that from _Flynn_ of all people. Judging by the look on his friend's face, by the way his blush was visible even in the uncertain light, it seemed Flynn was equally as surprised. He let slip a self-conscious laugh, ducking his head and looking up at Yuri through a messy fringe of hair. There was no way he knew how much that look got to Yuri, otherwise his expression wouldn't still be so bashful.

“Not sure where that came from,” Flynn admitted.

“I've got a couple ideas,” Yuri muttered. He tugged Flynn toward the dark hallway. “Bed? Warm blankets?” Stealing a quick kiss, he grinned. “More of that?”

Flynn crashed into him, all wandering hands and hasty kisses and need. They stumbled a few steps further from the candlelight until Yuri got himself turned around so that he wasn't being hustled along backwards in Flynn's arms. In the darkness and in their hurry, they ran into the wall and rebounded, laughing and trying to usher each other more quickly toward the bedroom. There was light coming from Flynn's open door, and Yuri caught a momentary glimpse of a dozen golden lights shining like stars from the desk and the bedside table and even the windowsill before he was spun around and pulled into a kiss. Flynn fell back against the door, letting their combined weight slam it shut.

Yuri's hoodie, which had been perfectly cozy earlier, was now almost suffocating. He squirmed in Flynn's embrace, trying to pull his arms free without breaking the kiss. Wriggling his shoulders, the press of his chest against Flynn's felt oddly soft with the layers of clothing between them. Flynn got the idea quick enough. His hands grazed Yuri's sides with enticingly brief touches as they slipped beneath the hem of his hoodie and tugged it up. Together, they worked it up over Yuri's head and tossed it aside. Immediately, Yuri leaned back in, intent on resuming the kiss. He was held back by Flynn's hands on his cheeks, and he met Flynn's stare, an unvoiced question on his parted lips.

“How....” Flynn stopped and licked his lips. The movement was reflexive, almost nervous, and it captured Yuri's stare. He watched, entranced, as Flynn bit his lip, letting it slip gradually free. Yuri was drawn helplessly in. The kiss was soft. Gently, Yuri caught Flynn's bottom lip between his own teeth and felt it pull free as Flynn turned his head aside just far enough that kisses caught the corner of his lips rather than the fullness of his mouth. Yuri trailed his affections over Flynn's cheek, feeling the tickle of lashes against his nose and forgetting that Flynn had a question until he spoke up again.

“How far do you want to go?” Flynn asked.

How far? What a question. Battered by swells of lifelong friendship and growing affection, Yuri had felt adrift for weeks. He took a deep breath which did far less to calm his racing heart than did the warmth of Flynn's hands cupping his cheeks. Flynn's gaze was steady, pupils grown huge in the dim light until his irises were the blue coronas of twin eclipses. He was Yuri's anchor, dependable as the moon that ruled the tides, and he waited quietly for Yuri's answer, his own yearning only evident in the way his teeth sat upon his lower lip, dimpling the glistening pink skin and holding back the urge to dive back into the kiss.

“I don't know,” Yuri breathed. Reaching up, he laid his hands over Flynn's and offered a lopsided smile. “Find out together?”

Flynn's smile was easily the brightest thing in the candlelit room, and it was gone in a heartbeat, melted into a kiss.

* * *

 

It was dark in Flynn's room, the tealights all having winked out one-by-one to leave the room lit only by a single, fat pillar candle and the pale, moon-silver light falling through the window. The air that touched Flynn's cheek was not-quite-comfortably cool, and he shifted ever so slightly to savor the heat beneath the covers. Yuri was in his arms, back flush against Flynn's chest, hair a shadow among shadows on the pillow. He was too still for his sleep to be anything but feigned, and Flynn hugged him tighter, curling in even closer behind him.

“Yuri...?” Are you awake? Are you cold? Are you all right? The questions died in his throat, leaving the sound of Yuri's name to hang in the chill air.

“It stopped snowing.”

It had. Flynn had seen it without noticing. The tiny corner of the city visible from his window was still dark and without power, but the snow had stopped falling, the clouds had cleared away, and moonlight shone down to glitter and gleam on the snow that blanketed the world outside. Yuri was lying on his side, facing the window. His cheek was pale as the waning moon in the poor light. Flynn leaned on him, stretching to kiss the curve of his jaw, lips searching out the soft skin of his neck. Yuri thwarted him, hiking up a shoulder to halt the trail of kisses and force Flynn back.

“That tickles.”

There was neither laughter nor annoyance in his voice, and he sat up. Slipping free of Flynn's arms, he pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Cold air rushed to take his place, making Flynn curl reflexively around the fading warmth and draw the blankets in close. He watched as Yuri stood, bare skin the color of snow at night, hair like a starless sky. The candle on the nightstand offered meager light to warm the tones of his skin. He was beginning to shiver. He'd always felt the cold more keenly than Flynn, but the draw of the night sky when he had too much on his mind was stronger than his discomfort. Yuri bent, picking up a shirt to put on, and Flynn smiled to see his own blue sweater settled over Yuri's frame. It was just barely long enough to preserve his modesty. The warmth beneath the covers held Flynn for another few seconds before he got up to join Yuri at the window, enfolding him in blankets worn like a trailing cloak.

“What's the matter?” He wasn't at all certain that Yuri would bother answering, but he waited patiently nonetheless. When Yuri spoke up, his response was surprising.

“I thought it would feel different.”

Startled, Flynn had to force himself to relax, to not squeeze Yuri too tightly, to be ready to let go and give him space.

“Did I hurt you?”

“What?” Yuri twisted to look at him, plainly confused. When understanding dawned, he looked back out into the night. “Oh. No. That was...fine. I mean, it, you know, it was—”

“Awkward?” Flynn offered. There had been a lot of fumbling and hesitation and a couple of false starts. Although the atmosphere had been perfect, Flynn couldn't honestly say it had been a romantic first time. Even so, his admission was rewarded with a quiet laugh and the feel of Yuri relaxing in his arms.

“Not just me, then?”

“I think that's just how the first time always goes.” He hugged Yuri tighter, squeezing his hand when Yuri reached up to lace their fingers together. Ducking his head so that his nose was buried in dark hair, Flynn breathed deeply. Yuri smelled like sweat and sweet shampoo and the musky odor of sex. “It gets better each time.”

A thought occurred to him suddenly, and he lifted his head. “If you want to, I mean.” Maybe Yuri wouldn't want to. Maybe he hadn't liked it.

Yuri laughed softly again, shoulders shaking gently against Flynn's chest. “You worry too much.”

They fell silent, savoring the warmth and watching the moon until Flynn remembered his question and Yuri's confusing answer.

“What did you think would feel different?”

“Huh? Oh. Just...me, I guess.” He fidgeted, then murmured: “Do you feel any different?”

Flynn gave the question due consideration, then shrugged. “Not really. But, then, I don't think that...that—” The words 'making love' teetered on the tip of his tongue, nearly spilling free before he swallowed them back. “—that what we just did is supposed to _change_ how we feel, so much as express it.”

Yuri held his peace. Maybe that had been the answer he'd been looking for, but probably not. His eyes were still fixed on the heavens as his thoughts wandered. Flynn tugged gently to see if he would turn away from the window.

“Let's get some sleep.” He hesitated, not sure if kissing Yuri's cheek would be an enticement or if his pensive mood had erected a boundary not to be crossed.

“Go ahead.”

“Come with me?”

Yuri shook his head. “I'll go out to the living room if I'm bothering you, but—”

“No.” Flynn glanced back at his bed. It wasn't too far from the window, and it sat low enough that he'd have something to lean back against. “Here.”

Kneeling, he arranged the blankets to give himself enough to sit on with plenty left free to wrap up in. He settled himself on the floor, conscious of his nakedness without feeling the slightest bit of embarrassment even though Yuri was watching him. Smiling, Flynn reached up a hand in invitation. Yuri's fingers were warm in his as Flynn drew him down, helping him get comfortable. They wound up with Yuri sitting between Flynn's legs, wrapped up in his arms and the warm blankets, held snug against Flynn's chest as the moonlight fell upon them from the window.

“Are you really comfortable like that?” Yuri asked, looking back over his shoulder to meet Flynn's eyes. Beneath the covers, one of his hands rested on Flynn's arms where they were wrapped around his waist.

“I'm fine.”

Smiling crookedly, Yuri worked a hand free of the warm cocoon. He touched Flynn's cheek, urging him to turn his face just so. The simplicity of the kiss, the sweetness of Yuri's lips against his made Flynn's heart ache. He was grinning when they broke apart, and he nuzzled Yuri's cheek, feeling the heat of the the blood rising to pink his skin. Yuri shifted in his arms, settling against him in a slouch so that his head was pillowed in the crook of Flynn's neck as he gazed up and out at the sky. Hidden beneath the blankets, their hands found each other, fingers twining together or stroking gently over wrists and palms, finding perfect contentment in warmth and gentle touches.


End file.
